No One's Hero
by Side Project
Summary: Harry is depressed. He has lost himself, and no one notices. His life is a mess, and he doesn’t care. No one even notices the change, except Draco. Why is he the only one who notices? Slash HP/DM
1. The Depression

**Title: **No One's Hero

**Author name: **Side Project

**Author E-mail: **sideproject@hotmail.com

**Category: **angst, romance

**Keywords: **Seventh year, slash, Harry/Draco

**Rating: **R

**Spoilers: **None, just general knowledge of the HP universe.

**Summary: **Harry is depressed. He has lost himself, and no one notices. His life is a mess, and he doesn't care. No one even notices the change, except Draco. Why is he the only one who notices?

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.****

**Author's notes: **This story was originally on fanfiction.net under my pen name, 'pawn of fate'. It is not to appear anywhere else but there and on fictionalley. If you see it else where, please let me know. I'd like to thank the people at ffnet who gave me wonderful reviews and pushed me to write more than the original chapter. 

*

**Chapter One of _No One's Hero_:**

The Depression 

Tonight, today, tomorrow… never…and now. It was a clear night, cold and crisp. The moon had a red hallow around it; a blood moon. This was the end of the line. That thin line…He had been walking the tight rope for far too long.

He had his father's cloak wrapped tightly around him, yet even that was only a small comfort. There was a bitter dark inside him that not even his parent's memory could tarnish. It was something eating him from the inside. It had been going on for so long now, Harry couldn't even remember not feeling like this. It was a part of his life now, a part of him.

Perhaps the most haunting aspect of it was nothing changed. Well, at least not for anyone else. One day, the famous Harry Potter had stopped being the hero. He'd become withdrawn. He stopped playing Quidditch. No one tried to stop him, they let him walk away, replaced by a first year. Harry only talked when asked a question, and even then his answers were reduced to simple "yes" and "no" replies. He didn't even say anything insulting to Malfoy when he was being a git. No one made much notice. Hermione and Ron had long stopped asking what was wrong when they found each other. Not that he blamed them. They were happy, and the last thing they wanted was to deal with someone who wasn't. Harry understood that, and he wasn't about to get in the way.

Harry walked through the darkness, and stopped in front of a thick wall. He tapped the seventh brick from the top, revealing the door to the tower steps. This was **his** place. No one else seemed to know about it. He could come up here under the cover of darkness, and just sit in the quiet. It had a perfect view of the Hogwarts grounds.

It was the only place that he could think straight. 

Thinking was like a drug. It had become an addiction. Harry couldn't concentrate on anything during the day. All he wanted was to come and sit in his place. Here thoughts made sense. No confusion. It was quiet and simple. No talking, no arguments or opinions. 

He opened the door, and took off his cloak, but pulled it tight against his chest. If only he could be with his parents. Maybe then they would be able to take him away from this pain, make things better… But they couldn't. They were dead, and the dead cannot come back to life. He had no one to comfort him, only the quiet of the room…

It was surreal. The tower had windows on every wall, and a sky light up at the top. Harry found himself almost swimming in moonlight. No wind, only the calm of silence. He felt better already.

Harry walked to the far end and opened up one of the windows. He sat down on the ledge and let his legs hang out. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, considering his present state of mind, but it was relaxing. A sort of freedom, like the kind he felt on a broom… Quidditch was like putting rules on flying, that's why he quit. 

A few times he'd thought about bringing his broom up here and taking off. Yet, he was scared that he might let himself drop instead of fly. Harry was caring less and less about living each day. There just didn't seem to be much sense in it. Living hurt to much, dying had to be easier.

Why live if you don't enjoy it? But there was something that always held him back. A faint hope that something would change was worth live for, waiting for. Even if it never came.

Suicide… It was almost an option. As tempting as the complete release of life sounded, Harry held it back. He was too scared to die.

He leaned his head against the wall. The agony burned inside. He did nothing anymore. He slept through classes and never bother to do homework. Harry had even given up making excuses; he'd take the zero on the work. Why bother? Everyone used to push so hard for him. They wanted him to be the best… They had taught him how to dive into the deep end, but they had forgotten to teach him how to swim. Now he was drowning, and no one was around to save him. Even after he had saved everyone else.

There was a rustle of cloth. Harry clenched his eyes shut. It must have been his imagination. Then it happened again. Suddenly he was aware of another presence in the room. Harry lifted his head back up, and waiting for another betrayal of noise.

"I guess you caught me," came a voice.

"Who's there?" Harry asked. Someone had ruined his silence, and he was angry.

Fabric fell to the ground; apparently he wasn't the only one who had an invisibility cloak. Draco appeared.

"What do you want?"

"I'm trying to understand you. I know why I'm depressed, but I still don't understand why you are. So I've been following you up here for weeks. I thought you were going to kill yourself a few days ago," Draco said gently. _That _had been a frightening moment. Harry had stood on the very end of the window ledge and looked down. He had both hands holding on the top of the windowsill to give him balance. Then he'd dropped one hand, and started to cry silently. If he had let go with the other, he would have fell. But instead, Harry climbed back inside, much to Draco's relief.

"Please leave," Harry said simply. He didn't want to fight; he just wanted to be alone. He didn't want Draco to see him cry.

"Its no fun having an arch nemesis that won't fight back. So, I'm here to help so _I_ can go back to insulting and tormenting you," Draco said with a faint smile. He'd been hoping to get the same result from Harry… yet he didn't. Harry turned back around, just starring out the window. Dark clouds hid the light of the moon.

"You're going to talk to me. I haven't been wasting all my time up here to get the silent treatment. Do you eve _realize_ how hard it is to breathe quietly? Mind you I've gotten plenty of experience with the way my father is..."

Draco looked at Harry, who remained silent. The room was calm, and Harry just starred out into the night. Giving up on getting an answer, Draco sat with his back against the wall right beside Harry. His raven black hair was all over the place, and even in his eyes. It made him look mysterious. 

He looked over at Draco, and then back outside, "Why are you here?"

"I told you, I have this nemesis thing all planed out. I mean, Weasley isn't any fun. He's too worried about the mud blood to insult me. I've tried to find a replacement, but only you ever seem to be much fun. Well, you _used_ to."

"I rather doubt that you've been sneaking around all this time just to have me start fighting back. It's not easy to fool me. I knew you were here tonight," Harry said.

"I know. I was restless. You go through the same routine each and ever night. I'm tired of seeing you like this. Besides, it gets rather boring watching you do nothing night after night."

Harry nodded yet said nothing. Harry wasn't like he used to be. This was a whole new person. Empty, cold…

"Why do you care?"

"I don't," he said firmly, and paused, "No one else was doing anything. I know how it feels to be depressed and have no one notice. I saw you didn't have anyone, and it reminded me of myself."

"You have Crabbe and Goyle, and I have Ron and Hermione."

"Ron and Hermione…They're your friends are they? The why aren't they here? The same reason Crabbe and Goyle aren't out looking for me. They don't care about you. You're not fooling me. You're as friendless as I am. No one has noticed that neither you nor I spend our nights in bed. That says something."

"I thought you wanted to help. You're not making me feel any better. If anything I feel worse."

"You need to be realistic first. Denial doesn't do you any good. Then you work on getting better," Draco said studying Harry. He was pale and gaunt. If he hadn't seen the steady decline himself, he would not have ever believed the change. He was only half of what he was when they first met.

"What makes you the expert?"

"I've been there. I think I'm better at handling things than you are. You let your emotions consume you, a typical Gryffindor. But I bottle everything; I know how to control how I feel. I thought if anyone could help you, I could."

"Why is it that you notice and no one else does?"

"I haven't spent the last seven years going to school with you and not noticed a thing. I know you better than you know yourself."

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"You have to know your enemy's weakness in order to exploit them. It's a Malfoy thing."

"If I'm an enemy, why don't you just let me feel like this? I think you should just let me wallow, you don't need to torment me, I'm doing all the work for you."

"I don't hate you," Draco said softly. He meant it too. It was an odd way to show someone you cared by insulting them daily, but that's just how he was. Then Harry stopped fighting back. There was no point in saying things if Potter didn't get at least a little upset by them. So he stopped, and started watching. Draco found himself noticing Harry, _really_ noticing. 

Harry turned around and looked at him as if he was crazy, "Listen, my head is screwed up enough as it is. I don't need you playing mind games with me." His eyes looked glazed over. He hadn't been sleeping at all.

"I'm not. For once I'm being honest. I had gotten so used to throwing insults at you that it became natural. Then you stopped fighting back, and it made me start thinking. 'Why do I hate Harry?' and then I just realized that I didn't."

"Why are you here?" 

"I'm worried about you, as crazy as that sounds. I care."

"Then I think you're the one who needs the help," Harry said and shook his head. His chest hurt, and his head felt as if he'd fallen off his broom.

"What's wrong?"

Harry sighed, "I'm depressed. Life doesn't make much sense. I don't enjoy life and I don't see much reason in living. I don't know why I haven't jumped off here yet. No one would notice, except maybe Filch. And that's only because he'd be pretty upset about having to clean up the mess my body would make when it landed. "

He ignored Harry's comment. He knew if he hadn't jumped yet, he wasn't going to. "You're quitting Quidditch surprised me the most. I thought you loved it. It hasn't been the same without you."

"I love flying, not Quidditch. Its _just_ a game."

"You're failing."

"I know."

"You know, and you don't even care. What changed? This doesn't just happen instantly."

"No one needs me now that Voldemort is dead. I heard of a quote once that said the only reason we have heroes is because we have villains. Don't need a hero once the villain is gone, do we?"

"If you need a villain, I'll be a replacement. Although I was holding off on my world domination plans until I was older, I could move that up if you wanted me to. But I don't care about _a hero_. I care about you. Not the 'Boy Who Lived', Harry Potter."

Harry pulled his legs back inside the window, "Malfoy do you _realize_ what your saying? I mean, are you saying what I think you are? Because you aren't making any sense."

This time it was Draco that didn't reply. He turned his head away. For once in his life, he was speechless. 

"I keep asking you why you're here, and you keep offering me excuses. Why the bloody hell have you been following me around and watching me?" Harry demanded.

Draco felt a stab of cold in the pit of his stomach, "I came to help you, not to talk about me."

"Obviously it has something to do with me, and I have a right to know. So you care about me? What is this all about? I want some answers."

"I told you, I'm good at controlling my emotions, bottling them. For seven years I've been pretending to hate you. I even had myself fooled. Then you stopped caring, and I realized I didn't hate you at all. I found out all that hate I had for you was really the opposite of what I was showing you," Draco said. 

He looked over at Harry, who was silent. He was back inside, and he pulled the window shut and latched it. He stood up and paced away, but turned and sat down beside Draco.

"You don't hate me?"

"No."

"Then how do you feel about me?"

Draco hesitated, "I care about you."

"You've said that."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"This means something to you, or else you wouldn't be so silent about it."

"Not bad for a Gryffindor."

"Draco, I want an answer."

"Alright, I'm gay," he snapped at Harry.

"Okay."

"Okay?! That's all you have to say? Bloody hell, do you need me to say it out loud? Alright. Fine. Yes Harry, I like you. Why did you have to make that so difficult? Want me to yell that out to everyone tomorrow at breakfast," Draco yelled. 

Harry looked surprised, "You like me?"

Draco's jaw dropped, "No, I'm making it all up to embarrass myself. Not only that, but I'm looking for another reason for my father to want to beat the shit out of me. Remind me not to try to explain things to you again. You're too thick. I don't know why I even bothered in the first place."

Harry tilted his head and kissed Draco. It was the last thing he had been expecting. For a moment he was stunned, and just allowed himself to be kissed. 

It was everything he thought it was going to be, and more. Harry kissed like he flew. Elegantly. It was warm and soft, perfect in every way. He started to kiss back. Draco thought this moment would never happen. It seemed so remote and far-fetched. Nothing ever went as he wanted it too. It had been absolutely terrifying when he had fallen in love with Harry. Potter would never like him; they were too different. Like black and white. Yet here they were. Maybe this had only happened because Harry was depressed, he had become more like Draco… Darker, and no longer the innocent he once was.

Draco wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and pulled their bodies closer.  He wanted this to last forever. But he knew that wasn't possible, so he'd make it last as long as he could. By now Harry was sitting on his lap. They continued to kiss. This was more than Draco had ever hoped for; he brushed his hand against Harry's cheek. He was so perfect; he wanted to be with this boy. 

Why hadn't this happened sooner? Draco's mind raced. Why was Harry kissing him? He knew how he felt, but Harry? Was he doing this because he liked him back? Or was it the depression? 

Harry pulled away and turned his head. Draco saw a tear drop. He linked his arms back around his waist, and pulled Harry into his chest.

"I'm here for you."

"Thank you…" Harry whispered into Draco chest.

"Don't thank me."

"Why do you like me? Why did you wait until now?"

"I saw something else that no one else took the time to notice. Why did you kiss me?"

"I thought that I was the only one who felt like that. Maybe we aren't as different as we thought."

"Felt like what? The depression?" Draco said, hurt.

"No. You weren't the only one pretending to hate," Harry said, and smiled. It melted Draco's heart. He kissed Harry. He tried to kiss back, but he couldn't. Harry pulled away, laughing and crying at the same time. 

Draco was appalled, "What's wrong?"

"I've been waiting for something good to happen. Then when you showed up, I thought you were going to make it worse."

"I'm not that horrible!" Draco replied, insulted.

"Yes you are, but I like that," Harry smiled again, "I think you were right, you are the only one who can help me. You've done more tonight than anyone else has."

Draco hugged Harry tightly.

"So what happens now?"

"Whatever you want to happen, Potter."

"What about your dad?"

"We'll worry about that later. Right now, you're all that matters."


	2. What Friends Are For

**Title: **No One's Hero

**Author name: **Side Project

**Author E-mail: **sideproject@hotmail.com

**Category: **angst, romance

**Keywords: **Seventh year, slash, Harry/Draco

**Rating: **R

**Spoilers: **None, just general knowledge of the HP universe.

**Summary: **Harry is depressed. He has lost himself, and no one notices. His life is a mess, and he doesn't care. No one even notices the change, except Draco. Why is he the only one who notices?

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.****

**Author's notes: **This story was originally on fanfiction.net under my pen name, 'pawn of fate'. It is not to appear anywhere else but there and on fictionalley. If you see it else where, please let me know. I'd like to thank the people at ffnet who gave me wonderful reviews and pushed me to write more than the original chapter.

*

**Chapter Two of _No One's Hero_:**

**What Friends Are For**

Harry had his school robes pulled tightly around his body. He was always guarding himself, except last night. Even now, he wasn't sure it had happened. He never slept, and that tended to do things to your mind. Last night could have been a dream, but he wasn't sure. He wanted to know, but it wasn't exactly the type of thing you just walk up and ask someone about.

When he entered the Great Hall, it was almost empty. He liked to eat alone, it was easier than making people pretend that they wanted to talk to you, but were to busy with breakfast. Harry would come in just before breakfast (or any other meal for that matter) was over, and get just enough to eat before the house elves would clean away the table. Every now and then, Dumbledore would require the attendance of everyone at Hogwarts for a specific meal, but it didn't happen often, much to Harry's relief.

Harry grabbed a muffin and poured himself some orange juice. A few first years were sitting down at the other end of the table, but other than that, he was alone. He enjoyed his quiet. After seven years (after all, he didn't know he was the 'Boy Who Lived' until then) of dealing with everyone looking up to him, he liked the silence. 

Draco sat down across from him. Harry blinked twice and dropped the remaining piece of his muffin.

"What?" he asked, with the familiar smirk, that meant trouble.

"You do realize you've entered enemy territory, right?" Harry was surprised. Even if last night hadn't been a dream, Draco wasn't the type of person to "announce" things. And sitting across from Harry Potter, at the Gryffindor table was just that. 

Draco's smile curled up at the side, as he nodded. He picked up an apple and bit down. Harry watched him, seeing him in an entirely new light. He had stopped gelling his hair like he used to when he was younger, thank god. It looked very silky and light… it just hung softly around his face. He smirked, knowing bloody well Harry was starring at him.

"Feeling any better?" Draco asked and tilted his head. He looked honestly concerned. 

"Why are you over here?" Harry asked. He had lowered his eyes. This was all very un-Malfoy. 

He took another bite before replying. He didn't talk with food in his mouth, how polite. "Harry, I've been following you around for over a month, hiding in the shadows. You found all of that out last night. So why bother keeping the mask on, when you already know who's is hiding behind it?"

"I may know. But do you realize, that right now you're putting on a show for the rest of the school? And your father is going to wonder why you're talking to me," he argued. He didn't want Draco throwing away what he had for him. He didn't want it, didn't deserve it. He had ruined enough lives for his entire lifetime.

"I know it's a little late for the rebellious teenage stage, but I thought I could try to work it in," Draco said with a smirk. It was amazing how he could make light of all of this, "Besides, this is my last year. I'll be getting a place of my own soon enough. I hate the mansion. Worst case scenario, my father disowns me, I don't care. And I doubt he goes as far as trying to kill me, he doesn't know I kissed you, yet." He was as sly as he had been the first day they'd met.

"Yet? What do you mean by that?" Harry asked. He knew Draco too well; he had something big planned.

"How much long until graduation?" he asked with a smile. It was a trademark Malfoy smile with all the evil trimmings.

"Three weeks… What do you have planned?" he asked, suspicious.

"First things first. You do genuinely like me, correct?"

"No, I kissed you for the blood hell of it. You are graduating second in the class, aren't you? I thought you were smart," Harry casually. He wasn't usually sarcastic; Draco must have rubbed off on him.

Draco ignored it, "I say we give everyone a show. A 'Goodbye Hogwarts' with style."

Harry smiled and laughed, "Tell me what you have planned."

Draco stood up, "We have potions together first. We'll talk on the way. I wonder what Weasley will say when we walk in together."

"And here you were worried about my feelings for you! I'm the one being used for revenge."

"Revenge is a dish best served cold. Still buddy buddy with old Ronnie?"

"Hardly," said Harry. Draco didn't catch the hurt layered in his word.

"Then what's the problem?"

*

"Herm," Ron said and gave his lab partner a nudge. She looked up at him, annoyed that he had bothered her while she was in the middle of cutting. But when she saw the look in his eyes, she whipped her head around to see what was going on.

Harry was smiling. That had to be a first in a long time. Even more surprising was who he smiling and laughing with.

"Draco, Potter. So glad you boys could join us today. You'll partner up since you're both late. I'll excuse you from detention, this time. Seeing as how you're never late, you must have a worthy reason for this time, Draco," Snape said, ignoring Harry. 

He was thinking the exact same thing every other person in the class was. 'What are they doing together?'

Hermione turned back to Ron, her jaw had dropped, "What do you think that's about?"

"Hell if I know. I don't like it. If we thought Harry had gone and cracked before, he must have lost all of his marbles now. I mean, talking to Malfoy!? He must be nuts."

"He's smiling! I mean, how hard did we try to get one _ity bity_ smile out of Harry? Nothing worked, nothing helped. He just kept sinking deeper and deeper into that depression. We both know he's not sleeping, eating, and **worse** yet… not doing well in school. Yesterday he was thundercloud, now he's Mr. Sunshine."

"I think you have your priorities a little mixed up. But you have a point, what did Malfoy do that we didn't?"

Dean, who was working at the table in front of them turned around, "I talked to a few first years in the hall on the way to class. Draco came over to our table to eat breakfast with Harry."

"Wow," Ron and Hermione said in unison. The pair were spending way too much time together.

"So how would you wake sleeping beauty up?" he asked.

"You don't think…" 

"I do. Neither of them date. I suppose you could always use the excuse that Malfoy is a complete git, but he is good looking, and there's always a girl willing to put up with that for the looks. And Harry, he was always to busy saving the world for a girlfriend, and now he's too depressing… But it still makes you wonder."

Ron looked over at Malfoy and Harry. They were chatting as they worked. Both were smiling. Something was defiantly astray. He hadn't had a good talk with Harry for quiet some time; tonight he'd take the opportunity to suggest getting his head fixed. And it that didn't work, he'd just drag Harry himself up to the infirmary. 


End file.
